


What Hurts the Most

by Elenhin



Category: The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 10:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1262872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elenhin/pseuds/Elenhin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What hurts the most isn't that Axl killed him, but that Ty and Olaf are laughing. </p>
<p>What hurts the most is that they are laughing at him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Hurts the Most

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aramirandme81](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aramirandme81/gifts).



What Hurts the Most

 

Anders lay flat on his back on the bed, it was quickly proving that it was the only position he could hold. He didn’t really remember fainting, but he remembered waking up. First once on that pile of rubble, dazed and confused. He faintly remembered Mike rushing out as he tried to get to his feet, then there was a blank before he remembered Ty and Olaf chuckling to themselves.

 

They’d helped him to a chair which was somewhat kind of them, but when he had argued with Michelle about his stick there was another blank. He remembered getting off the chair, stepping forward, then nothing. That was, nothing until once more he woke up on the floor with Olaf and Ty standing over him, smirking as if it was something funny. It had taken longer then to get his wits about him but Michelle had urged them to take him home. He had been glad to hear that and he had been surprised over how good he felt. He couldn’t imagine that he had been dying, or dead, whatever it was. He felt great, light headed but great. It was more like he had had some really, really amazing drugs than anything else.

 

He’d suggested a drink to celebrate, and then once more the next thing he knew was the two of them laughing. 

 

Ty had pulled him to his feet again, roughly pulled him up by his arm and they’d dragged him to his bedroom. Landing on the bed had made his head spin and he felt sick. Wanting to make it to the bathroom had resulted into another fall to the floor but this time he stayed conscious. He had to crawl into the bathroom no matter if it was humiliating as hell. He’d crawled in there to throw up in the toilet.

 

It had been painful to throw up even if it was mostly liquids, alcohol and blood. The blood bothered him the most. When had he swallowed the blood?

 

He had felt disgusted, still covered in blood. There was so much blood and it made him feel sick. Ty had left him still wearing the blood soaked shirt and jacket and he dry heaved again. Grabbing the counter he pulled himself up, wrestling with the jacket as he leaned against the wall. It was half off when he felt himself falling again. He saw the edge of the counter rushing to meet him, but he was still falling. He was falling for an impossible amount of time and then there was a dark explosion in his temple before he was back into oblivion.

 

He didn’t remember Ty and Olaf going to check on him, but he had a vague memory of a wet cloth against his face. He’d struck the corner of the counter or so Ty told him, and he was bleeding again. More blood on his shirt and jacket. Apparently he had swallowed some more in some way, possibly from his nose he thought, he didn’t care. It was however with some satisfaction that he threw up on Ty. It served him right for laughing.

 

He distinctly remembered Ty laughing.

 

Now they had dumped him on his bed again, a wet washcloth on his forehead over the cut, but still with the shirt on.

 

Couldn’t they at least help him off with the fucking shirt? It was so disgusting. Everywhere he looked there was blood, on his hands and his shirt and now on the sheets.

 

They’d left the bedroom door open this time, so they could hear him Olaf had said, but he wished they had closed it. He could hear them joke and snigger and it didn’t help. He’d get up and shut the fucking door, but he couldn’t.

 

Every time he sat up the room started to spin and he felt light headed.

 

He kept waking up, but he never fell asleep and that scared him too.

 

He heard Ty answer his phone and heard him tell Olaf that Mike had found Axl and spoke to him. Axl, the baby of the family was alright. He’d been scared he had killed his brother but now that he knew that wasn’t the case he was okay.

 

Well, that was just fucking great but Anders could still hear them snigger and chuckle.

 

They were laughing about him falling over and over, and he couldn’t really see how that was in any way funny. A small part of his brain told him that maybe he would have enjoyed it more had it not been himself.

 

He was thirsty though, his mouth was dry and he tried to push himself up on one elbow.

 

It wasn’t a good idea, the room started spinning.

 

He woke up flat on his back, again, and groaned with frustration.

 

His shirt wasn’t wet anymore, it was drying and it stung when he moved. The shirt stuck to the hairs on his chest, dried in place by the blood.

 

Turning his head to the side he dry heaved again. 

 

He woke up half curled on his side this time.

 

Listening he thought he could still hear them laughing and chuckling and he tried to curse them but his voice cracked.

 

“Anders?” this time he realized it was Mike’s voice he was hearing and he blinked, trying to bring his brother into focus. “Fuck, couldn’t you two at least have cleaned him up?” Mike demanded glancing to Olaf and Ty. They’d removed his jacket, but he still wore the shirt and he was still covered in blood.

 

“He’s been pretty out of it, keep falling over,” Ty mused.

 

“He lost a hell lot of blood, you’ve got to keep an eye on him,” Mike growled, stalking into the bedroom. “Are you okay Anders?” he asked, worried when he saw how pale he was. There was a fresh ugly cut on his temple and dried specks of blood on his face.

 

“No,” Anders croaked, trying to work moisture into his mouth. “Thirsty.” 

 

“I’ll get you some water,” Mike promised. He glared at Ty as he headed to the kitchen to fill a glass. When he got back Anders struggled to rise his head. He managed to prop himself up on an elbow but then Mike saw him fall down again.

 

“Easy, take it easy,” he urged.   He helped him to lift his head and sip from the glass. “I’ll help you get cleaned up now,” he promised.

 

“Make them stop,” Anders pleaded with him.

 

“Make who stop?” he gave him another sip of water, careful not to go so fast he might choke.     

 

“Make them stop laughing,” Anders pleaded. It wasn’t the wound or what Axl had done. He had to admit that maybe he did deserve some of his anger, but it was their laughter that hurt the most. “Make them stop,” he pleaded.      

 

“Sure,” Mike nodded. “I’ll make them stop, and help you get cleaned up.” He turned to glare at the doorway where the two of them stood, at least looking somewhat ashamed of themselves. Amused as well as ashamed.                                                                 

 

He wished Anders would have had the sense to shut up, to not provoke, but he had made a point. Axl couldn’t stop himself when Odin took over, and Anders couldn’t help what being Bragi meant. In that manner they were all innocent.

 

Provoking it though was stupid, but that didn’t make laughing right.

 

Anders had closed his eyes, asleep now, but at least he was asleep and not unconscious.

 

Perhaps when he woke up they could fix things, but Mike had a feeling it was going to take a lot more to fix everything.

 

Anders was just vaguely aware of Mike using a cloth and warm water to clean him off. He had a faint awareness of the washcloth on his hands and face. His shirt was removed carefully and the washcloth was on his chest. Something was placed under his feet, raising them above the rest of the body and he thought he was a little less light headed for it. He felt better once he knew the blood was gone. He felt safe when Mike was there and though he knew it could not last at least now that sensation was the foremost on his mind.

 

Later when he woke up it would all be shit again, but at least for the moment he felt safe, and Mike wasn’t laughing.

 

The End

Please comment, the Cricket is hungry...


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